


Feel Me Breathe

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: Take my hand--Take My Whole life too [56]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Comfort, M/M, One Shot, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:51:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Mickey's seen Ian in this state countless times before, but not for a long time."</p><p>- Mickey comforts Ian after a panic attack -</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel Me Breathe

Mickey's seen Ian in this state countless times before, but not for a long time. Ian had got to grips with his medication, found alternatives to his rush of anxiety, remained healthy for as long as he could. But sometimes that wall he built, it could break.

Ian's head is laid in his lap as his whole body quivered and quaked, gasps and terrified incoherent noises spluttered out of his pink, blushed lips. There's a blanket chucked around him, decreasing the tension and coldness thriving through his body. Mickey rests his hand on Ian's head, brushing his fingers through his hair over and over again, scratching and massaging his scalp trying to calm the boy down. Ian's face turned against his lap, hiding himself in the mesh of Mickey's shirt, tears falling from his cheeks and onto his jeans. Mickey grabs to his waist, drawing him closer, and Ian lets him because he always lets him.

After six months without, Ian had one of his panic attacks like a thunder storm in the desert. 

“Sh, Ian. It's alright. You're fine.” Mickey whispers in his hair, as Ian's shaking quickens and subsides again and again. “Fuck – It's okay, I'm here alright. Just feel me breathe, feel me fucking breathe.” And he knows he shouldn't curse, but it was known to him that when he got scared he tended to shout, or swear.

Mickey's hand picks up a soft pace against Ian's hair, running through it slowly, resting his lips into the damp strands. Usually, it would help Ian, the soothing of Mickey's fingers, the hum of his chest, the rise and fall of his breathing. Ian would go limp for a few seconds, almost as if he stopped breathing all together, but soon enough those horrible and violent jolts Mickey hated so much came back.

“Gallagher, you gotta breathe.” He whispers, knowing that shouting wasn't going to help anybody, and that only a whisper would allow him to get through. It wasn't a chore to do this; to hold Ian against him, help him through his attack, it wasn't a chore in any sense. It was his duty, it's what he wanted to do, needed to do. Mickey hated seeing Ian this weak, all slumped and fragile in a broken state, that's why he needed to do this.

He looks down into his lap; Ian's curled up towards his chest, a firm hand hooked around Mickey's waist, his legs curled at the side of him. Mickey continues to say small things, whispers, and watches as Ian's chests starts moving in a rhythmic pace. Ian's little gasps, little snores, let out quietly, splitting through the lingering atmosphere of his screaming just a couple of minutes before.

Ian looked peaceful, almost angelic; his faced all puffed up and sore. Even though he knew it wasn't his fault, Mickey still felt guilty for Ian's attacks, he wished he could prevent them all together.

Mickey pulls Ian closer on his lap, leaning down pressing a kiss to Ian's damp forehead, brushing away the strand that threatened to touch his fluttering lids. “You'll be okay, Gallagher, it's aright.”


End file.
